A Shadow's Gathering
by Beryl Butterfly
Summary: After twenty years of peace and prosperity Panem is a shining jewel of a civilization. But there are those with scars still carried on skin and heart from a darker time, who watch for gathering shadows and fear for the young. AU, OC,rating may change
1. Emergence

Authors Note: I won't be doing long authors notes in each chapter so I thought I'd just say a few things from the start.

This will not be a 'submit your own tribute' story. That genre is very well filled out. I am writing this to tell a story, to get words out of my head and on paper, which is something that has not happened since my Writing 101 teacher managed to kill any desire I had to write. So if you just want to read a story and go wherever the writer decides to take you then come along. If you want to be in the driver's seat and dictate the pace, characters, and action then this may not be the story for you. This will not be a sequence of prescribed events that follow the book's lain out schedule. It is an alternative universe tale, which will take its own route and time to get where it is going. I hope you will enjoy the journey.

Also, as I am a college student taking a quite heavy course load this may not be the most quickly updated story from time to time. I will endeavor to get it updated in as timely a fashion as my classes and, let's face it, life will allow.

Oh and just a note about reviews. I took the time to write it and fight with uploading it for your pleasure. You took the time to read it either to your pleasure or displeasure. How much more time does it really take to click the button and tell me your thoughts? If you have questions feel free to ask, if answering them will not spoil anything future story line I will be happy to reply via FF message.

_Disclamer: Obviously I did not write, nor publish, The Hunger Games. I am just playing with pawns in Collin's world._

**Emergence**

"Ollie Ollie oxen free" the eerily childish cry in a man's voice bounces off the walls of the school yard. From a distance one would assume they were watching nothing more than a simple game of hide and go seek; from a distance one could not see the gleam in the teen's eye as he scanned the sparse playground for his classmates.

The shifting of the sun coming out from behind the cottony cloud temporarily casting a ray of sunlight down upon the playground created a glinting reflection off the lenses of a small, hidden boy's glasses. It was all the seeker needed, just enough movement to catch his eye and set him stalking down the smaller boy's path. Tiny twigs scattered through the grass protested and cracked under the teen's heavy plodding feet, he whistled a cold slow song letting the one he sought after know he was near. The boy smirked, his thick upper lip revealing slightly yellowed and crooked teeth as he clenched his fist repeatedly. The thick leaves of the berry bush brushed against his calves as he stood in front of the small boy's hiding place.

"Peter," the teen chanted low and menacingly, "Oh little Peter, don't you want to come out and play. Why do you hide?"

The teen leaned forward shaking the narrow tree trunk as he smashed his weight against it leaning over the bush and trapping the younger child. He laughed as the small boy looked up at him with widened terrified eyes while trying to crawl under the bushes to escape. The larger boy closed his eyes in triumph breathing in deeply as if he could smell the younger boy's fear. With his eyes shut he could not see the brief smile on the child's face, nor the light in his eyes. Knowing he had but seconds the younger boy pushed up fast putting all the strength of his small legs into the movement, he lifted an inch long metal blade as he rose thrusting it into the muscle corded neck of his tormentor.

A loud howl of agony and anger followed the younger boy as he sprinted away from the tree desperately seeking a new hiding spot as blood gushed between the teen's fingers which desperately clutched his throat as he ran after the child. Birds lifted from electrical wires flocking away in mass as a loud siren sounded and children's heads popped out from their hiding place as they all obediently lined up along a single white painted line facing heavy steel doors atop a dozen cracking concrete stairs.

The small boy still holding his tiny knife tightly in his blood stained hand squeezed between two taller girls with identical curly red hair tied back in soft navy blue ribbon. In unison they reached for his shoulders cocking their heads to the left and glaring at the mammoth teen bearing down upon the small boy. With a visible shudder the teen, nearly a man, stopped cold still glaring at the child.

"You're mine," the teen growled never letting his eyes leave those of the younger boy's as the muscles in his neck began to spasm sending fresh waves of thick red blood down his arm to drip on the tarmac.

A small chime rang and the spark of amusement in the smaller boy's eyes faded to a dull grey. His feet clad in dingy grey and blue sneakers shuffled to face the doors once more. The twins released their comforting hold on his shoulders as the eerily bright blue of their eyes dimmed and they took their gaze from the larger boy as if they had never had reason to look his way. In unison each of the children in line took a step forward marching in perfect order. The last child entered the doors of Emergence Academy, school for disadvantaged youth.

Dread sank into the teen's heart as the steel doors clanged shut. The sun retreated to its hiding place behind progressively darkening clouds. His heart beat frantically as the muscle spasms spread from his neck down his right arm. As his stomach muscles clenched and he bent forward to heave onto the black swirling tarmac his eyes caught sight of the shadowy figure watching from the large plate glass window above the intricately scrolled pledge "A better future, through the hands of our children".

The ancient man, a legend turned to ghost story watched emotionless as the large boy collapsed to the ground. The birds launched into flight by the clanging of the siren settled upon the boy. Beaks tore into flesh, serrated edge cut though tendon and bone as if through bread. Within moments only two tattered sneakers and a handful of scraps that had once been a school uniform littered the walkway.

Turning his back to the now abandoned play yard the man turned to his desk and pushed a blue button. The office filled with a static for only seconds before a feminine voice filled the air. "What may I do for you Mr. Snow?"

"Send in Caliper and Thorsidge," the old man rasped grasping the arm of his chair and the silver bird shaped handle of his cane so tightly his knuckles paled as he sat with knees creaking into the plush comfort of leather. "And send someone to clean the mess up front."

"Yes sir." The woman answered, her voice almost conveying an audial salute.


	2. The Dawn of Promise

_Disclamer: Obviously I did not write, nor publish, The Hunger Games. I'm just playing with pawns in Collin's land._

**The Dawn of Promise**

Dust reflecting a myriad of color floated on the breeze through my open bedroom window along with the bright sunlight that had first awoken me. Rubbing the sleep out of my eyes I sat up in bed shaking my head at the drone of the television already blaring from the living room.

Chills ran up my legs causing the muscles of my calves to cramp as my feet hit the chilled wood floor. My soft fuzzy pink slippers bring a smile to my lips as I wiggle my toes in them feeling the cramping lessen just as the wood of my door rattles with my ten year old brother's persistent pounding. "Callie," he yells while slamming the door into the closet wall behind it. "Mom says breakfast is getting cold."

Grabbing my bathrobe off the bottom post of my bed and shrugging into it I walk over to him ruffling his hair and smirking at the grimace on his face as he tries to pull away. "Gotcha squirt. I'll be down in a few." I watched as his little brown haired head bounded back toward the stairs before heading into the bathroom to brush my teeth and hair.

The rise and fall of voices from the kitchen caught my attention as I walked toward the dining room. My younger brother and sister were in the dining room digging into their pancake stacks, Corbin was eyeing the bottle of warm syrup in the center of the table while Sandy snuck peeks down at the book in her lap between bites. Mom and Dad were not in the room even though there were still three served plates getting cold with no one to eat them. I snuck past the door without notice and leaned against the entry way to the kitchen. Mom was in tears standing in front of the television, the light reflecting off the inlaid crystals of her cheeks sending off prisms muted by the dripping salt water from her pink eyelashes.

Slowly I walked toward Dad linking my fingers through his so he would know I was there, as his eyes were riveted to the television and the fine line of print streaming along the bottom of the screen. With Dad's eyes now on me I could finally ask what was going on. I knew asking Mom would be pointless, when she gets upset like this there's no calming her down for hours. With hands flying quickly but with small motions so as to not distract Mom from her vigilant perch on the countertop across from the tv, I ask Dad, "What's wrong? Why's Mom crying?"

"As you can see behind me word of the coming changes has created a mix of emotions in the people of Panem. One can only imagine what the coming days will bring, but one thing is for sure, this is a moment that will never be forgotten, Back to you Yvonne." With the camera flickering back to the subdued news room Mom reached up and turned off the television.

Mom's wet cheeks and reddened eyes stood in stark contrast to the brilliant smile plastered across her face and her light giddy dancing steps toward me. With her arms wrapped around my waist and her lips pressed to my hair she spun me around the room before exclaiming, "Isn't this just the best news!" Her arms were gone along with her as she danced down the hallway to the dining room. Bubbling voices spilled out into the hallway as I stood there looking at Dad who's brows were creased with worry.

Waving my hand in front of him impatiently I signed again, "Dad, what's wrong. What's going on?"

Dad's fingers wrap around my hand enclosing mine completely. He pulls me over to a stool at the breakfast bar and sits down heavily. Slowly his eyes lift to mine; the creases in the corners seem to have grown deeper since he kissed my forehead last night at bedtime. The light that normally dances in his eyes hinting at the humor only one who isn't blinded by the noise of everyday life can find, is missing; in its' place is a shadow of something I can't place.

"Your mother is fine. They just announced today that there will be an election held for president next month; all citizens of Panem are to register to vote. She is very excited about the news." Dad explained, while his lips held creases at the corner in his attempt at a smile there was no joy in his expression. Deep cresses still crossed his forehead and the shadows still haunted his eyes.

"That's great news Dad." I replied trying to balance the differences in reaction between my parents and figure out what was really going on. "There hasn't been an election since," I pause trying to recall my history lessons, "Well since like forever. It will be good for people to be able to choose who is in charge." I smile at my father waiting for him to take the bait and tell me why he seems unhappy about the news, but he sits on the stool, his eyes on me and his thoughts a million miles away. "Dad, that's good right?" I smack on the breakfast bar beside him when he doesn't answer and ask again.

"Yah, yah it's good. It's just the wording has me concerned. All Panem citizens are to vote, all people 18 and older are to register to vote. Panem has a history of forgetting that people under 18 are citizens." More lines appear on Dad's brow as he worries his lower lip between his teeth. I squeeze his hand hard; his worry makes my heart flutter in a way I don't like. Not the type of flutter that happens when Skylar Links smiles at me but the type that happens in the middle of the night, when I wake up covered in sweat sitting straight up in bed with a silent scream, from dreams I can't remember.

Dad's warm lips on my forehead chase away the stress in my chest. The large fingers enclosing my smaller ones squeeze lightly one time before he releases my hand and brings my face up to look into his with two fingers under my chin. "Don't listen to me sweetie, I'm just being a silly old man seeing ghosts in the daylight. It's a good thing." He signs, this time his smile seems more real and the worry that plagued his eyes just minutes before seems to have been replaced by thoughts of his day as he grabs his overcoat and heads out the door for the factory.

I peak back into the dining room as I walk back down the hallway. The Squirt has taken over my unclaimed plate and is already licking the syrup from the empty plate with his finger. Oh well, guess I wasn't really that hungry anyway. "Hey Mom, I'm not really hungry. I'm just gonna get my stuff and head to school early, I told Sky I'd get to school in time to help her with her math." I holler as I pass by knowing Mom isn't going to care. She is still rattling on a mile a minute to the little ones about the big news.

"Oh I wonder what stylists the candidates will be using. Maybe I should go by City Square today and put in my resume, can you imagine if I was chosen. That would be absolutely Amazing!" Mom's enthusiastic, trilling voice followed me up the stairs. I couldn't help but let my mind wander to an image of mom standing just off stage basking in the glory of some radiant, and knowing mom I mean that literally, candidate. You know, that would be really cool, I think to myself. It's been too long since Mom's been this happy.

The booths of the central market are packed with goods, and the farmers from the outskirts of town are leaning against tables chatting with each other. The shouting voices and jovial banter is muted as I easily make my way through the square that is normally heaving with humanity. Sky and Skylar are at their father's booth, their younger brother Kurcket is hopping around like grasshopper. He climbs to the top of a ladder-back chair his father has just set aside while searching for something in his toolbox.

The chair creaks loudly making the little boy laugh. His laugh turns into a scream as the unbound leg falls to the dirt sending the chair and boy careening to the ground. Just in time Skylar wraps his arms around the toddler and throws him high before catching him. "Hey Cricket you gonna get squashed if you ain't careful." He laughs before setting the carefree boy back in the dust this time on his bum and handing him a wood-scrap from his father's discard pile. "I need your help Cricket." Skylar bends down eye to eye with the little boy getting his attention as he hands over a small piece of sandpaper.

Kurcket's eyes grow wide and he smiles brightly at Skylar. "I help, I help!" He shouts starting to stand up again before Skylar lays a hand on his shoulder holding him in place.

"Oh good, cuz see I got this stuff stuck between my teeth and I really need a toothpick but I cain't make one right now cuz I gotta go to school. You think you can sand this piece of wood down real good for me and make me a toothpick before I get back?" He asks sticking his tongue out a little and making a show of rubbing it over the invisible stuck object between his incisors. His fingers disappear beneath a slew of brown curls as he ruffles the little boy's hair. "See ya later Dad. I'm gonna ask if I can skip outta English so I can help you get that kitchen set over to the Martin's this afternoon."

"Thanks son." Mr. Links replies finally lifting his head from the over-sized toolbox and with a bracket in hand for the dining room chair. "If you can't I'm sure Kurcket and I will get it figured out." He adds with a booming laugh making the little boy look up curiously.

Sky joins me at the corner of their booth and rolls her eyes as she smacks me in the arm. "You can quit drooling over him anytime you know. I'm pretty sure he doesn't think it's cute when puppies are covered in slobber let alone 17 year old girls."

I can feel the heat raising from my neck to my cheeks and I know without a doubt my cheeks are plenty pink even without the makeup my mother is always throwing a fit because I refuse to wear. "Haha, very funny," I try to play it off like I didn't know what she was talking about but it rings false even to me. Face it, she's been my best friend since kindergarten I could probably lie to myself better than I could pass off a lie to her. Linking my arm in hers like we have ever since we were little I whisper, "Not my fault your brother's cute, blame your parents."

Sky grabs the plain brown backpack supplied by the school to those who need school supplies and swings it up over her shoulder. "Must have been Mom's fault, Dad's always saying how beautiful she was." She replies lightheartedly but the levity does not reach her eyes. "Too bad I take after Dad."

"Pfft, yah as if." I huff rolling my eyes as I stop and pull her around. I sweep her long brown hair off her shoulders and pull it back into a mock loose pony tail to where it frames her face lightly. "Oh yah, I see it now you don't look anything like your brother, yup never seen twins look so unalike ever."

Sky's cheeks burn pink as I let her hair fall back to her shoulders, immediately she pulls a corner over her shoulder, half hiding her face behind a veil of brown. "Whatever," she whispers under her breath just barely loud enough to be heard as she turns back and starts walking toward the school. I shrug and follow her, who knows what her deal is today. Lately I swear she's moody more than not.

A loud whooping yell makes me jump just as we walk into the school yard. "Hey puppy face," Skylar laughs as he pulls on the tail of my braid while running past. I open my mouth to shout something back as the traitorous heat rises in my cheeks and Sky just stares at me amused. Great I'm that obvious, that's just lovely. I think to myself looking up at the huge brick building in front of me and wishing I could be anywhere but here right now.

With a small smile creasing her lips Sky reaches out and takes my hand pulling me toward the doors. "Come on 'puppy face' or we're going to be late for class."

With an exaggerated sigh I let Sky drag me along. This is going to be a glorious day, yup just simply fabulous.


End file.
